


The Green Garter

by sadieb798



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eggsy as Gawain, Eggsy's got a chip on his shoulder, Emotional Baggage, Happy Ending, Harry Hart Lives, Harry as Arthur, M/M, Modern Retelling, Poor Eggsy, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight - Freeform, Truth Serum, but then what else is new, knights of the round table - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4638642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadieb798/pseuds/sadieb798
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Up until four months ago, Eggsy's life had been normal (or as normal as it could get being an agent for a top-secret spy agency). It’d been almost a year to the day since his first mission had happened, and since then he’d been adjusting to living a life of a Kingsman. He’d had a life and he’d had a routine before the rug was fucking pulled out from under him.</p>
<p>That was when Harry bloody Hart fucking swaggered back into his life, just the same way he’d entered into it the second time around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [terpsichorean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/terpsichorean/gifts).



> None of this would have been possible without the incredible help of jakathine! Thanks man, I owe you big time! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally happened: Merlin’s gone completely mental. Eggsy figured it would happen one day, but he just assumed it would happen later rather than sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Kingsman fic. Please be gentle.  
> Also, "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" is also my favorite Arthurian legend.  
> And this was such a challenge to write.   
> Nevertheless I enjoyed it and hope you do too :)

**The Green Garter**

 

“You’re taking the fucking piss, Merlin.”

It’s finally happened: Merlin’s gone completely mental. Eggsy figured it would happen one day, but he just assumed it would happen later rather than sooner.

Merlin looks at him with all the patience of a parent well versed in dealing with an exasperating child. “Unfortunately, I am not. This is an important mission, Eggsy, and requires two knights.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’ve got Harry on this too!” Eggsy whined.

“Arthur needed an opportunity to stretch his legs,” Merlin replied. “This is that opportunity.”

“Just get Gareth to do it!”

“Unfortunately Gareth is currently on his way to Portugal. Meaning _this_ ,” he glanced down pointedly at the file he had handed to Eggsy before they began this conversation, “is all yours.”

“I ain’t got no problem with the mission: I got a problem being partnered with bloody _Harry_ ,” Eggsy practically spat.

“You will be partnered with whoever I assign,” Merlin retorted, eyes narrowed in warning.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am and you will. The knights of Kingsman work together no matter what state their relationship is in.”

Eggsy bristled at the flippant comment. “ ’Arry’s and my working relationship is _fine_. So thanks, but no thanks Merlin.”

“Nice try Eggsy, but you’re still taking this mission with Harry,” Merlin replied dryly, giving Eggsy his best unimpressed expression.

“But Arthur’s not even a field position!” Eggsy cried. He doesn’t stamp his foot petulantly, but it’s a near thing. “Harry is _Arthur_ now, the bloody _King_ , not a Kingsman! And he isn’t allowed to go on missions!”

“As I said, he needs to stretch his legs. And yes, technically you’re right: the _King_ isn’t allowed into the field, but a _Kingsman_ is--and oh would you look at that,” Merlin glanced down at his ever-present clipboard, before raising his thick eyebrows in mock astonishment. “We never _did_ replace Galahad did we? Well isn’t that convenient: we have a position open for Harry after all!”

Eggsy scowled darkly at the wizard.

Merlin let out a long suffering sigh before continuing. “It’s true that your working relationship with Harry is fine, but the same could not be said for your _personal_ relationship. The unresolved issues you have harboured since Harry’s return are going to take its toll, and very soon even _that_ is going to be tainted. Do you really want to risk the damage that will happen if this continues to fester?”

Eggsy lets this ruminate for a moment, before looking down at the folder in his hands in contemplation.

Merlin spoke gently, “Eggsy take it from someone who knows, it’s not a pretty sight to see happen to two great agents.”

Eggsy groaned loudly in complaint. “ _Fine_ , I’ll take the bloody thing.”

“Good lad,” Merlin said with his infamous shit-eating-grin.

Bastard.

 

* * *

 

To his credit though, Merlin did let Eggsy have at least twenty-four hours to prepare, and in that time he had managed to drop JB off at Roxy’s for her to watch, study the file, and inform his mum that he’d only be gone for a day on business.

Now he was on the tram going to headquarters, go-bag on the seat next to him and file open in his lap. But he couldn’t help but scowl at the seat across from him as though it were the direct cause of all his misery.

Up until four months ago, his life had been normal (or as normal as it could get being an agent for a top-secret spy agency). It’d been almost a year to the day since his first mission had happened, and since then he’d been adjusting to living a life of a Kingsman. He’d got his mum and sister situated in a house far away from the council estates he’d grown up in, he’d gone on several missions, saved the world a few times, helped recruit a few new knights--basically he’d been busy trying to have a life. Trying to cope without losing his shit.

He’d had a life and he’d had a routine before the rug was fucking pulled out from under him.

That was when Harry bloody Hart fucking swaggered back into his life, just the same way he’d entered into it the second time around.

At the time, Merlin had informed him and Roxy that they were expecting a new Arthur. Up until then, Merlin had had to do both jobs, and they could tell he was exhausted by it. So it was clear he was relieved at having someone to fill in the shoes of Arthur at last.

“Don’t worry,” he’d said to calm them both as they walked to the shop to meet their new boss. “Guinevere informs me that he’s not an insane classist and we’ll all get along just fine.”

Of course that was when they’d opened the door to the gathering room and who should be sitting at the head of the long table but a man they’d thought died outside a church.

“Merlin. Lancelot. Gawain,” Harry greeted them politely.

For a minute, nobody did anything. The three of them just stood there gaping at a dead man, while said dead man gave them a pleasant--if nonchalant--smile, looking pleased as fuck by their reactions and as cool-as-you-please while Eggsy quietly freaked the fuck out.

Then Merlin walked over to Harry, who stood to greet the wizard and his unofficial predecessor, and Merlin punched him--fucking _punched ’im_ \--in his smug face.

To say Harry was stunned would be an understatement. To say he looked like his entire world had done a fucking backflip off a building would be more accurate a description.

And then Merlin fucking surprised them all again by giving Harry a bone-crushing hug.

When he’d pulled away, he straightened the wrinkles out of his sweater, and grumbled: “The other knights should be here for the coronation soon. Sir.” He added as an after-thought.

Harry blinked owlishly before clearing his throat in embarrassment. “Thank you, Merlin.”

The knights arrived about fifteen minutes later, and the reactions were mixed. Pretty soon Harry was crowned Arthur, with all thirteen knights swearing allegiance to their new king. And then champagne was distributed and all the knights who had known Harry were clamoring to hear of how he survived, and what he’d been up to; including Merlin and Roxy.

As for Eggsy, he’d hung back away from the general assembly, trying to process what had just happened.

If anything he felt massively disturbed by the turn his life had suddenly taken. He felt like a car had slammed into him from the side, skidding him across the road. Then it began to feel hot and stuffy in the room, and Eggsy went to the toilets where he then proceeded to have a quiet panic attack in one of the stalls.

It was just as he was calming down and about to open the stall door to leave, that he heard the door to the toilets open and a pair of feet come in. After months of going on separate missions where his life had depended on him not getting killed while in the gent’s, instinct took over and before Eggsy knew it, he had jumped and balanced high in his stall: hands splayed against the walls, feet angled to balance him, and head bowed from view over the stalls.

It took a moment for Eggsy to feel silly for his automatic response, especially while he was there at the shop, before the door opened again and another set of feet entered.

“Arthur,” he heard Merlin greet. Eggsy internally groaned.

“Merlin,” came the reply.

The only sounds filling the room were the facets running from the sinks, and Eggsy was beginning to wonder if they’d ever leave. Then just when the sound of one pair of feet were beginning to retreat, Harry suddenly spoke.

“Merlin,” he said, “I noticed that after...after what had happened to me, Eggsy became Gawain and not Galahad.”

“That’s right,” Merlin replied. “Harold, as it turned out, had been one of the followers of Valentine’s who’d had his head blown off.”

A noise of disgust filled the room. “He always was a little shit,” Harry replied. Despite himself, Eggsy could not help the smug smile that took over his face at the mention of V-Day--he still felt immense pride over the success of his first mission.

“What are you really trying to find out, Harry?” Merlin asked. He’d never been one to beat around the bush, the bastard.

“Eggsy was well within his rights to inherit the title of Galahad,” Harry pointed out. “Yet he chose to take a codename that meant--” he paused before letting out a deep breath. “Well, he chose a different one. I just wanted to know why that was.”

There was a long beat of silence. Unable to stand it any more, Eggsy leaned forward slightly from his perch and squinted through the crack separating the door from one of the walls of his stall. From his vantage point, Eggsy saw Merlin give Harry a look that said exactly how stupid he thought Harry was.

“He didn’t want the codename,” Merlin said finally. Harry stared at the wizard for a long time, before glancing away, looking defeated. Then Merlin spoke again: “He activated The Chalice instead.”

Harry’s head snapped back up, a look of shock on his usually impassive face as he stared at the wizard.

“Would that be all, Arthur?” Merlin asked professionally, but with a cheeky smirk on his face.

Harry cleared his throat before replying thoughtfully, “Yes that will be all.”

Merlin turned to leave, but before he could, Harry spoke so softly that Eggsy almost didn’t hear him: “Thank you, Merlin.”

Then the door opened and both men left.

Eggsy waited a few beats more to be sure that the two weren’t still in the vicinity of the gent’s. Then he hopped down from his perch, and jogged home where he drank himself to sleep that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the fact is that Harry had faked his death, and Eggsy had spent a long time mourning his mentor.

After that, things weren’t really the same between him and Harry.

It’s not that Eggsy treated him any differently, just much more respectful-like. Always addressing him as “sir” or “Arthur”, and always in his posh voice. And he made sure never to swear in front of Arthur. It wasn’t that Eggsy wasn’t sure how Harry would react to his fuckin’ shithole of a mouth--Harry knew damn well that Eggsy couldn’t help his vocabulary sometimes--but it was more of because of the changes in status.

Bit not good to swear in front of your bloody _boss_.

But otherwise, Eggsy acts as though nothing else has changed.

Although if he _were_ hard-pressed, Eggsy would have to admit that _yes_ , there were times where he felt pretty uncomfortable being alone in the same room with his former mentor. There were times where he couldn’t get out of the elevator fast enough if he was unlucky enough to be caught in the same one as ’Arry. And if he did ever see him turning down into a corridor Eggsy was about to enter, Eggsy would be quick enough to back up and go in the opposite direction.

But apart from those instances, Eggsy doesn’t treat Harry any different.

That’s the trouble though, ain’t it?

What’s probably worse is that he-- _they_ \--can’t go back to the way things were between them before the--well just before. Things’re too different between them now, and Eggsy isn’t stupid: he knows what his feelings are for Harry; he’d known long before Valentine’s bullet grazed Harry’s skull. They’d been on this path for so long that Eggsy isn’t even sure when the feelings he’d had for Harry went from admiration into--well love.

It’s just. Well, the fact is that Harry had _faked_ his death, and Eggsy had spent a long time mourning his mentor. He had been so immersed in the feeling that he’d been cheated, and all the “what if’s” and the “almosts” that plagued his dreams and waking thoughts very nearly drowned him. And just when he was starting to pull himself together and feel fucking _normal_ again, the man he’d come to admit he loved--and had watched get shot in the fucking head--turned out to not be dead after all.

Harry coming back from the dead just made everything Eggsy had worked so hard to live with all the worse.

It took Eggsy a minute to realise that the tram had come to a stop and the doors were wide open; he was so immersed in his own thoughts he hadn’t noticed. He grabbed his go-bag and the file and marched to the armory.

* * *

 

Kingsman’s huge armory never ceased to amaze Eggsy. Even after almost a year and a half of  working as an agent, it continued to help him focus and get into the proper headspace that each job required. He was counting on that ability as he entered the huge room to find Harry waiting with Merlin at a large table with a few scattered items littered on its surface. The things that really caught Eggsy’s eyes, however, were the two small dark blue velvet boxes and a bright green apple beside it.

When Eggsy got closer to the table, he clasped his hands behind his back and held his head high. He stood as far away from Harry as possible without it being deemed as rude.

“Arthur,” Eggsy greeted in a clear, crisp tone.

“Gawain,” Harry returned, nodding back. “You look well. How was Brazil?”

“Fantastic,” replied Eggsy curtly.

A blanket of uncomfortable silence hung over them.

“Ah,” Harry said at last. “Good.”

In front of them, Merlin gave a slight cough. Harry’s eyes snapped to his direction. “Right so,” Merlin began awkwardly; so awkward that Eggsy could feel the awkward snail leaving a trail of slime over his Oxford’s. “This mission required something a bit more than your basic, run-of-the-mill weapons. Since your covers for this mission are uncle and nephew, I have here these little beauties.”

Merlin opened one of the velvet boxes and lifted up a golden ring. The flattened surface to indicate that that would point upwards was a deep red and painted on was what looked like a golden pentagram.

“A pentagram Merlin?” Eggsy asked, giving the ring a look. “You didn’t say our covers were Wiccan.”

“That’s a _pentangle_ , Eggsy,” Harry corrected, his _pay-close-attention-you’re-about-to-get-a-lesson_ voice in effect. “A pentangle is an upright version of a pentagram.”

“Doesn’t look any different,” Eggsy grumbled.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Merlin broke in, reigning them both back. “Because you’ll be portraying a family, it seemed only fitting that we’d have a family crest on your rings. But these rings aren’t just for display--Harry if you’d kindly step over to your right, that would be great.”

Before Eggsy had a chance to move, Harry stepped into his space. Eggsy bristled from the lack of proximity and could already feel his face heating up. He adjusted his stance to accommodate his boss, and forced his attention back onto what Merlin was doing with the ring. He had slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand, fingers curled in, like he was about to give a fist-bump, and turned to the green apple on the table.

Suddenly a bright red beam shot out of the ring’s insignia and Merlin carefully lowered his fist downwards behind the apple, but the beam traveled over the apple and sliced through it like a knife. Then the apple split apart; the juices of the fresh apple bubbling from the contact of the heat from the beam. And then suddenly the beam was gone.

“Fuckin’ hell, Merlin,” Eggsy expelled, staring at him with an open mouth.

“Well put,” Harry agreed.

Merlin smirked and held up the fist the ring was on. “Laser technology. Been experimenting with this over the past year and a half. But I feel that it’s ready to go on its maiden voyage.” He slid the ring off his finger and turned it towards them so that both agents could see the inside of the ring.

“It activates almost the same as your signet rings. Simply curl your fingers into a fist, and press against the surface; the pressure will activate the laser. But be warned: aim your fist before you decide to activate the laser. You’ve no idea how many accidents we’ve had in the lab because of it.”

“I don’t believe I would like to know,” Harry rejoined as he held out his hand for the ring.

Merlin simply deposited the ring he’d been handling onto Harry’s palm and gave them both a smirk.

“Have fun boys.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He appreciated the fact that Harry had decided to just jump right in, as Eggsy didn’t think he could deal with any more of their awkward tip-toeing around the metaphorical elephant in the plane.

“Thanks again for watchin’ ’im, Rox,” Eggsy said again, his Kingsman-issued mobile pressed up against his ear. After saving the world from Valentine’s SIM cards, Eggsy never completely trusted big-name brands again, opting to instead use Kingsman products wherever he could get away with it.

Except Adidas. But that was a given.

Eggsy could practically feel Roxy’s eye-roll on the other line as he washed his hands. “Any time, Eggsy,” she said. “You know how much Poppy loves playing with him.”

“Well tell your poodle it’s only for a night, yeah?” Eggsy replied as he dried his hands on the fancy monogrammed towels that were in the toilets of all the Kingsman jets. “Don’t want her to suddenly think JB’s her little brother or som’thin’.”

“Like I said: any time.”

“I definitely owe you though--next time we go to the pub, first round’s on me.”

“You could do me one better and try to get along with Harry on this mission.”

Eggsy sighed, closing his eyes. “Rox--” he started.

“I know I know: ‘you’re _fine_ , and everyfing’s _fine_ , and it’s all _fine_ ’,” she said, doing a--quite frankly-- _horrible_ impersonation of him. “When’re you gonna get over yourself and go to therapy like a normal person?” she asked.

“I--I go to therapy!” Eggsy protested, blushing.

“The _point_ of therapy, my dear silly boy, is to _talk_ ,” Roxy pointed out. “And you’ve done everything _but_ talk.”

Eggsy blushed even more, cursing himself for being stupid enough to confide in Roxy about what went on during his therapy sessions.

“No, stop. Don’t do that,” Roxy chastised, interrupting his thoughts.

“Stop what?”

“You know very well what: that whole, _I’m going to keep it all in locked inside, conceal don’t feel, because sharing my feelings is awful._ Don’t do that, Eggsy. I’m telling you this because I love you: you _have_ to talk to someone in order to move forward--”

“Whoops sorry, Rox gotta go,” Eggsy said in a rush. “Tori’s about to fly us into a mountain--”

“Eggsy--”

“Bye Rox!”

_“Eggsy!”_

“Love ya!” Eggsy cried before he hung up on her.

Exhaling heavily, Eggsy turned around and slumped against the door of the water closet. He scrubbed his face with his hands, suddenly so exhausted.

Leave it to his best friend to remind him of his problems.

 

“You’re already familiar with the logistics of the mission?” Asked Harry when Eggsy finally emerged from the toilets.

Eggsy nodded as he sat down at the vacant seat across from his mentor. He appreciated the fact that Harry had decided to just jump right in, as Eggsy didn’t think he could deal with any more of their awkward tip-toeing around the metaphorical elephant in the plane.

“Target’s name is Bernie Greene,” he replied, opening the mission file, becoming all business as he began to feel centered. “Billionaire philanthropist. Trust-fund baby, made his millions in manufacturing.”

“Through his company, Green Knight Incorporated,” Harry added, nodding in approval at Eggsy’s brief overview. “He and his wife, Clarissa, are currently using all their resources to help in climate change.”

“He would’ve gotten along great with Valentine,” Eggsy scoffed.

“Indeed,” Harry replied. “Funnily enough, as I understand it, Greene’s favorite expert in the field of global warming was Professor James Arnold.”

Eggsy scrunched up his face in disgust. “The guy that exploded on your face?”

“The very same,” nodded Harry, grimacing at the memory. “Apparently Greene has now taken it into his head that he needs to help reduce the Earth’s population. According to our sources, he’s been working on a biochemical poison that he’s been planning on selling to the highest bidder for months.”

“What is up with these guys and thinking they can just kill half the population?” Eggsy asked in disbelief.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Harry sighed, taking a sip of his orange juice.

“So how’re we gonna do this?” Asked Eggsy, lifting his eyes from the file towards Harry. “Sneak in, steal the poison and get out?”

 _“Eggsy,”_ Harry tsked, making Eggsy frown. “We’re to attend his medieval-themed fundraiser, discretely secure the weapon, leave well before we’re caught, put it with the proper authorities, and get home in time for pudding.” Harry gave a shrug of nonchalance.

Eggsy nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he said, snapping his file closed.

Silence filled the cabin. Not even the engines from the jets were enough to quell it. Eggsy began to drum his fingers on the table separating them. He allowed his gaze to wander. He looked out the window; down at his hands; up at the ceiling-- _anywhere_ but at Harry.

“Eggsy,” Harry began, drawing Eggsy’s attention back to him. Harry was staring at him seriously, his hands folded together over the table in front of him. “I think it’s perhaps time we had a little chat.”

Eggsy’s hackles rose up in defense-mode. “The interns over in Merlin’s dungeon are doing well,” he blurted out. He hoped it came off as conversational instead of panicked. From Harry’s confused frown though, he didn’t think so.

“I’m friends with one of them,” Eggsy continued, thinking what the hell, he may as well. “Rian’s her name, and she says that Merlin’s been working on this new thing that--”

“Eggsy,” Harry said patiently.

“What?” asked Eggsy, fidgeting in his seat under the scrutiny of Harry’s dark gaze. He sank further back into his seat, hoping that he could be swallowed up by the plush leather and avoid this conversation all together.

“You’re blocking,” Harry pointed out.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are, and McDonough informs me that this is hindering your progress on your therapy.”

Eggsy stares at him, feeling a little betrayed. He doesn’t blame his therapist for grassing on him to his boss--after all, she’s just doing her job--but what happened to patient confidentiality or whatever the fuck it was called? So much for that load of bullshit.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eggsy replied simply, tone hardened in warning.

Harry frowns. “Are you sure? Talking about it usually helps with matters such as these--”

“Believe me ’Arry,” Eggsy says with a bitter laugh, “you’re the last fucking person I would want to talk to about this.”

Harry’s frown deepened, but he nods in understanding and turns towards the window. Eggsy lets out a slow breath, relaxing slightly in his seat.

Honestly he’s grateful that Harry has the fucking decency to respect him and back off, but Eggsy finds it ironic that it’s _Harry_ , of all people, who is the one respecting his boundaries when this whole bloody thing is his fault.

After V-day had happened, and in the emotional aftermath that followed, Merlin got them (Eggsy) all Kingsman therapists and encouraged them (Eggsy) to talk about what had happened; claiming that keeping it all bottled up would not be good for any of them (Eggsy) in the long run.

But Eggsy still hasn’t been able to do it.

He talks to Dr. “Please call me Jamie” McDonough about everything else: rugby matches on the telly, the last mission he’s been on--he’s shown her bloody _videos_ of his dog and his little sister, for Christ’s sake. He’ll talk to her about anything under the sodding sun _except_ Harry Hart. He can’t open up those wounds and show them to her, and because of it, he’s been trying to cope in his own way.

However, despite choosing not to talk about his issues regarding Harry to his therapist, his colleagues have taken it into their heads that he should talk to at least one of them. Bors and Gareth have both come to him with an implied interest in sharing a pint _“whenever he needs it”_ ; and both Merlin and Roxy are the worst at it when it comes to trying to get him to talk about his _feelings_. Hell even Kay the Hermit put a hand on his shoulder and told him it was okay to let it out.

They all just don’t understand. It’s not that Eggsy _can’t_ talk about what this has all done to him--it’s that he doesn’t _want_ to. Why can’t anyone understand that he just wants to be bloody left _alone?_

And if he wants to complain about it all to JB on the worst days where he just can’t stand it--well that’s between him and his dog, thanks. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy sometimes hates missions like these.

Of course the medieval-themed fundraiser is being held at a castle in Scotland, Eggsy had initially thought when he first read over the mission file.

According to the gossip surrounding their target, the castle had been in the Greene family for generations, belonging to a knight or an earl or some shit like that. And because of the family history, Greene is a huge medieval-buff, and it shows as Harry and Eggsy arrive to the party. The drawbridge is lowered over a _moat_ , and even as they make their way through the castle, there are green banners hung up all over the place with the guy’s family crest, and the caterers are all dressed as medieval servants. There are even _minstrels_ \--bloody minstrels, in fucking _leotards_ \--that are walking around singing about the deeds of the Knights of the Round Table.

Ha ha, Merlin. Fuckin’ hilarious.

But Eggsy’s got to admit it’s all super impressive, and is even glad he listened to Merlin in his insistence about them dressing up. Eggsy pitched a fit at first because he was not going to be going around in fucking leotards, Merlin, that could have the possibility of giving him a wedgie and distracting him from what he’s meant to do and possibly get him killed.

Merlin assured him that no agent has ever died because of leotards.

There are no leotards, thankfully, and Eggsy has to admit that he and Harry look good--or rather their covers look good. Eggsy’s rocking it in reds and golds, while Harry is dressed to the nines in almost all blue with some moss green thrown in; a look that does _not_ deter Eggsy’s attraction to his boss. Thanks to the costumes, complete with fake swords attached at their hips, they have no problem blending in with the other guests, who’re all dressed up for the party.

Though they almost did get thrown out because of their glasses. Simply because “there were no glasses in medieval times, sir, hence there beith no glasses at this medieval function”. It was only when Harry schooled the security guards on the history of spectacles--“Early recorded evidence demonstrates that glasses first appeared in Pisa, Italy about the year 1286”--that they were allowed to go in at all.

However when security was about to ask to take their watches away, Harry just gave them his _think-again-do-you-really-want-to-fuck-with-me_  look, and they let them go.

After going through security, the guests were all led into a large dining hall with two long tables laden with food and large decanters of dark wine that were against either wall of the chamber. In between the tables were several round tables and chairs. Ahead of them, was another long table that was high above the others, with two ornately-decorated chairs where their “King and Queen” were meant to sit.

“They really went all out,” Eggsy says sarcastically once they entered.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Harry replied.

 _“Medieval buff,”_ Merlin reminds them over the comms.

As Harry and Eggsy and the other guests sit at their tables, five men with the Greene family crest on their chests gather below the Royal Table; getting everyone’s attention by blowing out a tune loudly on their five golden horns. A hush fell over the crowd before a small man standing beside the entrance to the chamber spoke.

“Here ye, Here ye,” the small man proclaimed in a surprisingly loud, booming voice. “May I present, His Lord and Lady: King Bernard Greene, and his wife, Queen Clarissa!”

An applause erupts through the crowd as their hosts dressed head-to-toe in green enter. Eggsy’s eyes widen fractionally as he takes in their target. He knew that Greene was big, but this guy is built like a brickhouse. It also didn’t help that his wife in comparison was a petite woman, who Greene looked like he could crush just by standing next to her.

“Holy fuck he’s huge,” Eggsy murmurs to Harry, knowing that only he would be able to hear him with the crowd’s applause to drown them out. Harry nods as he claps beside him.

The guests all settle back down once their hosts stand at their chairs on the high table.

Greene is addressing the crowd, going on about the reason why they’re all present--to help starving children in Africa or somewhere--but Eggsy can’t be bothered to pay attention. He’s still not over the fact that their target is _massive_.

It’s only when Greene allows them all to party, and the small group of musicians that had gathered to the right of the Royal Table begin to play, that Merlin speaks to them.

_“Remember the objective: locate the poison. It may very well be in this room.”_

Eggsy stands to scan the crowd, eyes going again to their host in passing.

“Christ he’s built like Thor,” Eggsy whispers, the chattering of the crowd and the music filling the entire room as he stands beside Harry.

“Yes he does have that Hemsworth look about him doesn’t he?” Harry asks mildly, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

Eggsy scoffs. “Of course you know who I’m talking about,” he says, turning around. He can’t help the smirk that splits on his face. It almost feels like old times, and he’s forgotten how good it is to joke with Harry.

Harry agrees with a smile, as he eyes the crowd around them. “I was undercover, not dead,” he replies easily.

Eggsy’s heart stutters in his chest. It’s like someone poured cold water over his head; the shock is intense. He drops his smile immediately. Harry, who was distracted for a moment, realises his mistake. He turns back to him, and Eggsy can see the apology written on his face before he even begins to speak.

“Gawain--”

“Excuse me,” a dark woman dressed in purple says, interrupting Harry. “But might I have a dance?” She asks Eggsy.

Eggsy nods and smiles charmingly, offering her his arm. “Of course, love,” he says, leading her away from Harry.

He does _not_ sprint away, no matter what Merlin says into his ear about it.

* * *

Eggsy sometimes hates missions like these: how much schmoozing and arse-kissing he has to do to all these posh, silver-spoon-in-the-arse people in order to maintain a bloody cover and for the mission to succeed by not drawing too much attention to himself. He honestly gets it though; it’s all part of the job. It just sucks sometimes.

Especially when, after introducing themselves as Mr. Arnold Devere and his nephew, Spencer Davenport, somebody makes a remark that it’s obvious the two aren’t related. It’s worse that they take it a step further and blatantly state that Devere is certainly getting his money’s worth out of the young man.

Then Eggsy has to physically _drag_ Harry away from the group who had made the remark before he gets them thrown out, and ruin the mission by doing something ridiculously stupid, like defending Eggsy’s honor.

“What the bloody hell is your _deal?”_ Eggsy asks angrily, quickly glancing to see if anyone’s around to overhear them. They aren’t. “I’ve heard worse growing up on the council!”

Harry grimaces in agitation, before grasping Eggsy’s wrist and pulling his fuming partner into one of the castle’s alcoves away from the rest of the party.

“We have to talk,” Harry said finally, turning around and staring determinedly down at Eggsy. Merlin, who had been keeping up a steady stream of commentary the entire evening, has gone suspiciously silent.

Eggsy raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms. “Really? You don’t say.”

“Not about what just happened there,” Harry clarifies. “But about this tension between us,” he waves a hand between him and Eggsy.

Eggsy stares at him in disbelief. _“Now?!”_

“I have tried talking to you on multiple occasions, but each time you give excuses and bugger off--”

“Is this _really_ the time to have this conversation?” Eggsy whispers in agitation, feeling some panic at literally being cornered into doing this.

“Yes of course it is,” Harry replied, keeping his voice level. “You brought this on yourself: you wouldn’t talk to me and now it’s come to bite us both in the arse at the most inconvenient time.”

Eggsy frowns at him, but keeps quiet.

“You don’t act like yourself,” Harry begins. “You always act so stiff and formal around me--”

“Only because I’m doing my bloody _job_ , _Arthur_ ,” Eggsy interrupts testily, “and the job asks--”

“I understand the difference between what the _job_ demands and what _we’re_ willing to give,” Harry interrupts impatiently. “But what you’ve been doing goes beyond the job. You’re angry with me, and I understand. I have tried being patient with you. I have tried to let you have time in order to sort things out; hoping that you’d eventually get over it--”

And it’s the way that he says that. The dismissiveness coupled with the word choice is what makes something inside Eggsy snap. Because he honestly has had it with Harry Hart and the way he is so stupidly in love with him, and maybe Merlin was right about keeping things bottled up after all.

“You fucking _died_ , Harry!” He explodes, honestly not caring if he’s got everyone’s attention or not anymore. “And I had to watch from miles and miles away! Knowing that I couldn’t do a _goddamned_ thing about it--thinking that the last conversation that I would _ever_ have with you was one where you were disappointed in me!”

Harry looks at him like he’s gobsmacked, his chocolate-brown eyes wide. Normally Eggsy would relish being able to put an expression like that on Harry’s face. But right now, he’s too pissed to care.

“So _sorry_ if I haven’t been taking your resurrection great, okay?” Eggsy continues, laying it thick with sarcasm. “Because it hasn’t been great for me, and it’s not like a fuckin’ switch that I can choose to turn off if I want--believe me I would, if I could. But it’s not that easy. So kindly _fuck off_ and leave me _alone.”_

And it’s only once he’s finished, that Eggsy realises how close he’d gotten to Harry. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he steps away from Harry; his back hitting the wall of the alcove behind him.

They both hear a faint click, and the wall beside them opens.

They stare at the wall, bewildered. Eggsy glances behind his shoulder, and notices that he had pressed against a panel that opened the passage.

Eggsy turns back to Harry, quirking an eyebrow in question. Harry gives him a slight nod and pushes against the door, allowing Eggsy to enter first. After scanning to see if they really did get attention from their heated argument (they hadn’t), they go through the door.

Neither of them speak, allowing themselves to concentrate on the mission at hand. It’s only when they finally reach the end of the passage that they speak again.

“Bloody hell,” Eggsy mutters when he sees the large circular chamber and the device inside of it.

The device looks like a giant drill for oil, with a humongous glass bowl on top, and fills up almost the entirety of the room with a circular control panel surrounding the machine.

“Merlin?” Harry asks, as he circles around the machine, lifting his head up at the device so that his glasses can get a proper scan transmitted to the wizard.

 _“I’m on it, Harry,”_ Merlin’s brogue reassures them over the comms. _“EXCALIBUR's analysing the device now. Should take me a few minutes to find out what the hell this thing can do.”_

“Five minutes,” Harry warns. “We don wan’ta be away fo muh long’r.”

Eggsy blinks. His eyes feel funny and Harry’s words had sounded slurred.

“Harry” is all Eggsy has time to say before he blacks out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He blinks at himself in surprise. Now the effects of the serum hits him full force.

 Eggsy wakes up feeling groggy. It’s exactly what he feels like after he goes on a bar crawl with his mates from the council.

When he’s sure that he’s not going to throw up, he begins to open his eyes, but he has to squint because of the bright glare of the room. He slowly begins to take in his body’s state. He can’t move his arms and legs, and that sends a brief surge of panic through him.

Until he realises that his movement is restricted only because his hands and feet are bound.

Relief floods through him when he sees that Harry is sitting across from him. Albeit, his hands are bound behind his back and he’s tied to a, quite frankly, uncomfortable-looking chair, sporting a split lip and no glasses on his face. He looks like shit, but Eggsy’s glad to see he’s alive and well.

“Har--old,” Eggsy slurs, remembering Harry’s fake identity at the last moment. “Wha’s--”

“It’s alright, _Spencer,”_ Harry reassures him, using his cover’s name and staring at him meaningfully. “They know that we’re police.”

Eggsy furrows his brow. “They do?” he asks, following Harry’s lead.

“Aye, and quite frankly, I’m appalled you decided to crash my party,” says a booming voice.

Eggsy turns his head to the side and sees Greene for the first time. He’s surrounded by a few bodyguards dressed in black, which is fucking hilarious to Eggsy, and staring down at them disapprovingly. He’s even bigger up close.

Eggsy must have said this outloud, because there’s a smirk on Greene’s face as he looks down at him.

“How’d they know we were in here?” Eggsy asks Harry.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t have some sort of security in this room?” Greene answers before Harry gets the chance. “There’s a sleeping gas that gets released into the room if no one’s pressed in the passcode on the wall over there, beside the door,” he nods his head towards the door on Eggsy’s left. Neither of them had seen it once the looming machine had come into view. “Once the gas is released, and any potential burglars knocked out, my phone informs me that we’ve had a break-in.”

“No phones in medieval times,” Eggsy reminds him with a smile. Greene frowns.

“Yes, well I made an exception in this case,” their host deadpans. “I’m sure I’m allowed some leniency considering this is  _my_  house.”

“Castle,” Eggsy corrects with a smirk. Greene scowls at him. Then he looks over at one of the bodyguards, and nods his head at Eggsy.

The bodyguard walks over and punches Eggsy in the face.

Pain explodes in Eggsy’s right cheek. He spits on the stone floor, and notes that there’s blood mixed in with the saliva. Wonderful.

“Now,” Greene begins, once his bodyguard has stepped aside. “I’ll ask _you_ this time: how much do you two know? Because I swear if it’s about the money--”

“Money?” Eggsy asks innocently.

Greene explodes. “Yes, the _money!_ The millions I’ve been embezzling from these charities!”

That surprises Eggsy, but Harry plays along; looking ever-so-cool as he lifts an enquiring eyebrow. “You think we’re here about the money?” He asks their captor.

“Of course it’s about the money!” Greene cries. “It’s always about the money! Why do you think I’ve been embezzling?!”

 _“Bernard, what the hell are you doing?!”_  shrieked a voice high above them.

All of them look up to see Greene’s wife descending a flight of stairs that leads from a door above their heads, with an entourage of at least five people dressed in white coats following her.

“Sweetheart, what’re you doing here?” asks Greene once his wife has come down the stairs, and striding toward him; her gown flowing around her like green clouds. “You should be back at the party--”

She then surprises Eggsy by slapping her husband, hard, across the face, cutting him off and leaving behind a red imprint of her hand.

“You fucking idiot!” She spits at him venomously, reminding Eggsy of one of those venom-spitting lizards he’d once seen on a documentary on telly. “ _Of course_ they’re not here about your stupid embezzling scam, you imbecile!” Then she turns to one of the white coats. “Give them both the serum,” she instructs.

“Serum?” Eggsy asks, panic flooding through his system as two white coats descend on both him and Harry.

“Truth serum,” Harry replies lazily while a Whitecoat lifts up the sleeve of his disguise and injects him with a large needle.

“Practically painless,” one of Eggsy’s white coats reassures as he’s being injected with the needle into the vein of his arm. He stares at Harry instead of down at the point of the needle in his skin. It pinches a bit, but Eggsy doesn’t feel anything else that would indicate the drug.

“Have you the time?” Harry inquires politely. “I seem to have lost my watch somewhere.”

“It’s over there,” Greene points pathetically, one hand pressed against his abused cheek. Eggsy lifts his head to a table in the corner of the room with both their glasses and watches on it.

“Ah,” Harry says turning his head to the table.

 _“I’ll_ be asking the questions here,” Greene’s wife snarls. She turns her glare on Eggsy. “We’ll start with you. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy,” he answers truthfully. “A lil’ tired. Feel like’m gonna faint.”

She nods. “What is your name?”

“Gary,” Eggsy answers automatically. He blinks at himself in surprise. Now the effects of the serum hits him full force: Eggsy’s head feels heavy on his shoulders, and he feels a little loose-limbed. Honestly he feels like he’d just had a heavy cocktail.

“Can you point to your colleague, Gary?”

“No,” he answers.

“Why not?” She raises an eyebrow at him challengingly.

“Because my fuckin’ hands are tied behind my back,” he says.

She smiles nastily at him, and it completely changes her pretty face. “Good,” She says, pleased as punch. Eggsy glares at her.

She turns to look at Harry. “And you?” she inquires prettily. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Harry replies, giving a passive shrug.

She frowns at him, unsatisfied. “What is your name?”

“Arnold Devere,” he says.

Her frown deepens. “That isn’t your real name.”

“No,” Harry agrees. “Good luck trying to find out though, madame.”

“So sleepy,” Eggsy says suddenly. Harry’s eyes snap back to the younger agent.

“It’s alright, Gary,” Harry says reassuringly. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“I hate that name,” Eggsy says groggily. “Always ’ave.”

“I know,” Harry replies sympathetically.

Eggsy glances back at him. “But I lurve it when ya say it.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and the room goes quiet.

“Gary,” Greene’s wife says, getting Eggsy’s attention back to her. “No more of that. Tell me why you’re here.”

“ ’Cos Arnold needed to stretch ’is legs,” he croaks, his head slumping back to look up at her. “An’ I fink he requested me spec’f’clly for this assig’men’.”

She looks at him, confused. _“What?”_ She asked.

“Cos we’ve been ’avin’ issues,” he explains helpfully, his words beginning to slur. “Bin angry at ’im, and ’e jus’ wan’ed to talk. But ah’ve been avoidin’ ’im and fuckin’ about. I jus’ wan’ed things to be the same. But they can’t, so ah’ve been runnin’ from ’im.”

“Why?” Harry asks, drawing Eggsy’s attention back to him.

Eggsy giggles, feeling silly all over and ridiculous. Surprisingly not because of how the serum makes him feel, but because he’s been keeping this bottled up for too long that he feels stupid for doing it in the first place. “Cos I’m in lurve wif ya, ya wanker.”

Harry just stares at him.

“You _uuuuuuu_ were righ’, Ar’old,” Eggsy says, smiling and nodding at him. “Talkin’s good. Everythin’ feels so good. You’re good. You’re bloody _fan’astic.”_

Greene’s wife turns away from Eggsy’s babble to the nearest Whitecoat. “We’re obviously wasting our time,” she says icily. “We need to push the plan forward. Starting with these two.”

“So _oooooo_ fuckin’ ho _ooooot_ ,” Eggsy sings, squirming a little in his seat. The Greenes and their followers ignore them both and have since gathered around the device. “Gets me a ’ard wa’chin’ yah fight.”

“Eggsy,” Harry says, but Eggsy’s too far gone to even _try_ and interpret that.

He shifts groggily again in his seat, feeling so hot all of a sudden. When his hand brushes against his back and he feels a ring on one of his fingers.

“Hey Arnold,” Eggsy asks, giggling. “Didja know we still ’ave our rings on?”

Harry’s silent. “No,” he says, slowly, calculating. “I did not.”

“Should be a good time to use ‘em.”

“I think you’re right, Eggsy.”

Not wasting a moment, Eggsy angles the ring so that the laser would burn through the ropes, and grips his hand into a fist. The laser does the trick, and his hands are free. That, unfortunately, gets the attention of all the white coats and goons, the latter rushing at him. Eggsy keeps his fist up, burning a few of the guards, and slicing off a few limbs and other appendages in the process.

When the ones at the front fall to the ground, Eggsy crouches down and burns through the ropes tied around his ankles, kicking a goon in the head in the process.

He feels so imbalanced. The room won’t stop moving, he’s in serious danger of throwing up, and his head hurts so bloody much. But he can’t stop: Harry needs him, and he has a job to do.

So he takes the chair he’d been strapped to, and slams it down hard enough to shatter on the head of a goon.

He picks up one of the legs from the shattered chair and impales another. It’s a dizzying sea of black and white clothes, blood, and explosions of pain, Eggsy trying to hit as many people as he can, and not paying close attention to his surroundings.

He’s so overwhelmed by the effects of the drug, and the pain from each hit a goon managed to get in, that he doesn’t see the blur of green coming towards him until it’s too late and he hits the ground in a faint.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry smiles. “Among other things.”

Eggsy’s eyes snap open.

Inexplicably, he’s back in the Kingsman jet. He looks around, realising he’s flat on his back in a few of the chairs; a blanket is draped over his legs and a pillow under his head. He’s got such a headache and feels like absolute shit. He’s so absorbed in his pain that he doesn’t notice the glass of water being handed to him.

He lifts his eyes from the study of the wool of the blanket, and Harry’s there. He’s got a wicked shiner on one of his eyes, that Eggsy immediately notices without Harry’s glasses to obstruct the view. But he’s smirking down at Eggsy like he’s sharing a secret.

“Wha’ happened?” Eggsy croaks, his throat feeling like the Serengeti.

“Drink first,” Harry replies. Eggsy takes the glass appreciatively and a pill of aspirin Harry holds out to him. He gulps the pill, but takes small sips of water.

“Our intel was wrong,” Harry says conversationally. “It was actually Clarissa who was planning to sell the poison.”

Eggsy frowns in concentration. Why does thinking hurt so much?

“The wife?” he asks.

Harry nodded. “She was a biochemist and was also embezzling from the charities her and her husband set up, though instead of the profits going into her pocket, she put it toward research and developing her weapon. I have to admit, she was clever. She had us all fooled: she was trying to sell the weapon using her husband’s name and using his contacts to do it.

“She was trying to sell the weapon to the highest bidder. But when that didn’t work, she decided it would be better put to use and to eradicate those she felt were lesser than her: the orphans of Africa her and her husband were being charitable towards, and, ironically enough, her own husband.”

Eggsy takes another sip of water. “How was she going to do that?”

“Pollute their water,” Harry answers. “That drill that we stumbled upon was going to be sent to Africa, under the ruse of helping them drill for water. Though it _would_ have found water, instead of just sucking it up, in actuality it would have mixed the water with the key component of the poison, and she would have been able activate it remotely.”

“Christ,” Eggsy murmurs. Harry nods in agreement.

“Yes, she would have made a valuable asset,” he says with some remorse.

“Yeah too bad she was totally bat-shit crazy,” Eggsy snorts, and making Harry smirk.

“No need for any more of _those_ in Kingsman,” Harry murmurs, eyeing Eggsy meaningfully.

“So, wait, how did we get away?”

“Well before Greene tackled you and knocked you out,” Eggsy grimaces at the memory of the pain, “I had managed to eliminate a few bodyguards of my own. Once you were knocked out, I grabbed my wristwatch and stunned Greene. That was about when I noticed that Mrs. Greene was trying to escape up the flight of stairs.

"So I aimed my ring and let the laser do the work.” Harry frowned in memory. “Then her leg melted off.”

Eggsy almost spat out the water he was drinking, managing to stop himself at the last minute. But he chokes on it instead.

“Sorry, _melted?”_ he asks incredulously once he’s got his breath back.

“Mm-hm,” Harry smiles. “She had been keeping the poison on her person the entire time, and without my knowing, the laser pierced the poison, heating it and eating her leg. Completely severing it by melting it.”

Eggsy frowns. “But where was she hiding the poison that it would melt her _leg?”_

Harry takes his tablet off one of the tables, and presses the surface twice, bringing up an magnified image before offering it to Eggsy. The image is of Mrs. Greene, face contorted in agony, with her rich green robes hiked up high over her legs. There’s a green garter strapped around her thigh, with something leaking through the fabric; staining it black and eating into her leg.

“So it was in the green garter the entire time,” Eggsy murmurs incredulously, and shaking his head.

“Precisely,” Harry replies, taking the tablet back. “Fortunately that was all there was of the poison.”

“Good,” Eggsy nods.

“Unfortunately, the release of the fumes were very toxic,” Harry continues. “Everyone had fled by that point; both Greenes incapacitated and you were knocked out cold.” At the mention of him fainting, Eggsy blushes.

“So I carried you out.”

His blush gets worse.

Harry only chuckles at him, and shakes his head at the humor of it all.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures him. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Not to you apparently,” Eggsy grumbles before realising what he just said. He clamps his mouth shut, and wants to hide under the blanket.

“Not anymore, no,” Harry says with a small smile. “But that comes from years and years of exposure.”

“So then what happened? Did everybody at the party die?” Eggsy asks hopefully.

Harry gives him a disapproving look that makes him feel awful. “No,” then he gives him a smirk. _“Unfortunately.”_ Eggsy snickers at the turnaround, and Harry continues.“I claimed there was a gas leak and had everyone evacuated. Clean-up is taking care of things now.”

“And me?” Eggsy asks, worriedly. “Am I gonna be okay?”

“Merlin informs me that the serum, and the toxins from the poison, will be flushed out after a few trips to the toilet,” Harry replies with a nod.

Eggsy nods. “Good.”

They’re both silent for a while, in contemplation of recent events. Eggsy stretched out on the seats, while Harry is standing beside him, looking completely at ease. He has this nagging feeling in the back of his head. It feels like there’s something he’s missing; something vital, but he just can’t remember what.

And then he remembers.

“Did I, at any point while we were tied up,” Eggsy asks, uncertainly. “Tell you that you were fucking hot?”

Harry smiles. “Among other things.”

Eggsy groans like he’s in pain, lifting up his hands to hide his face. His cheeks are flushed, and probably bright red. He wants to die right then and there.

An uncomfortable silence fills the cabin, and somehow that’s absolutely more worse than any sort of teasing that Harry had had going on before.

“Eggsy,” Harry asks delicately.

Eggsy peeks out at him through his fingers. His mentor has a serious expression, but he’s now sitting down in one of the seats across from him rather than standing.

“Why did you choose to activate The Chalice for Galahad?” he asks.

Eggsy’s grateful for the sudden change in subject. “Merlin told you about that, yea?” he asks, and Harry nods in acknowledgement.

Eggsy shrugs, lowering his hands into his lap. “Didn’t think anyone else deserved it, to be honest,” he said. “So I asked Merlin if there was anything we could do about it. And he told me about The Chalice--sayin’ it was only used on special occasions.”

Harry nodded slowly, eyes on Eggsy. “The last time it was used was for an agent called Agravaine,” He explains earnestly. “Bors and Agravaine were on a mission, and it had gone horribly wrong. Agravaine died rather tragically, but his sacrifice saved his partner. When he came back, Bors used The Chalice, thereby initiating the codename Gawain and retiring Agravaine.”

Eggsy nods, fidgeting his fingers. “He also said that the activating of The Chalice could only work when all the knights agreed on the fallen knight chosen. So I said to enact it, and everyone agreed.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Harry says, his gaze penetrating. “Why did you _choose_ to enact The Chalice? You were well within your rights to become my successor, and as my proposal it would have made sense for you to inherit the title.”

Eggsy closed his eyes, letting his head hit the pillow he was resting on. He wish he could just end this conversation, but he knew Harry wouldn’t let up until he got an answer. So, letting out a deep breath, he spoke.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to live up to you,” he said, ashamed to admit it to Harry’s face. “And figured no one else could live up to it either. I didn’t deserve it, and knew no one else did either.”

“Eggsy. Look at me.” Harry ordered. Eggsy cracked an eye open. Harry was staring down at him with warmth in his brown eyes. “If anyone deserved the title of Galahad,” he said softly, “I assure you Eggsy, it’s you.”

Eggsy’s face heats up again, but this time not in embarrassment.

Another silence fills the cabin, but for once it’s not uncomfortable and it doesn’t make Eggsy want to bolt. It feels almost like it was in the old days while he had been going through training. And it occurs to Eggsy that they might be okay.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Eggsy,” Harry admits after a while.

Eggsy shrugs. “S’okay, I’m already used to it.”

Harry gives him a small smile. “The fact is, Eggsy,” he begins, “that everything you told me while we were incapacitated--I feel the same about you.” Harry looks up at him.

Eggsy can’t help but just stare at him. He’s sure he looks stupid as hell: with his mouth hanging open, and his eyes probably big enough to pass off as dinner plates.

“And the fact is,” Harry continues, glancing back down at his own hands that he’d placed on the armrests of his seat. “That it’s unfair of me to ask you to forgive me when you’re not ready, and for that I apologise.

“I’ll wait. I’ll work hard to earn your trust again, because frankly, I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve it.

“And though I can’t promise that I won’t lie to you again, I _can_ promise that I’ll treat you with all the respect you deserve and try to answer whatever you ask of me. However, when you’re ready, I’d like to ask you to dinner.

“And then afterwards, perhaps I’ll invite to join me in my bed. And to stay over for breakfast--for as long as we both shall live.”

There’s another long moment where neither of them speak, and they can’t even look at each other for fear of what the other might say.

That’s when it dawns on Eggsy that he hasn’t said _anything_ , and that Harry’s waiting for him so patiently and looking at him, waiting, and he _hasn’t fucking said anything._

So he swallows, his throat suddenly so dry. “Bloody hell you’re a sap, Harry,” he says, trying to cut through the tension.

Harry quirks a small smile. “Only for you, my dear.”

“Who’da thought,” Eggsy murmurs, staring.

“I certainly wouldn’t have,” Harry answers truthfully with a shrug.

“Well then,” Eggsy says finally, huffing a laugh. “Stop standing there and give us a kiss, yeah?”

“With pleasure.”

And Eggsy knows for sure they’ll be just fine.

  
  
**The end.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also apologies for the horrible attempt at British. I'm an ignorant American and cannot Brit.


End file.
